a man standing in front of a car on a foggy road

Late one stormy night, a young woman named Clara was driving home from her shift at the hospital. The rain was relentless, hammering on her windshield as she navigated the dark, winding road through the woods. Her tires splashed through puddles, and the headlights barely cut through the thick veil of rain.She glanced at the clock on the dashboard--2:14 a.m. Just a few more miles, and she would be home.As her car rounded a sharp bend, the headlights illuminated something on the road. A figure stood in the middle of her lane, motionless. Clara slammed on the brakes, her heart pounding.It was a child. A boy, no older than eight, drenched and shivering. He wore old-fashioned clothes--a white shirt and suspenders that looked like they belonged in another century. Clara hesitated but rolled down her window slightly.“Are you okay?” she called out.The boy looked up, his face pale and eyes hollow. He raised a trembling finger and pointed toward the woods.“Help her,” he whispered.Before Clara could ask anything else, h